


Sternutation

by NOT_TOWA_WAKASA



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M, Fluff without Plot, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NOT_TOWA_WAKASA/pseuds/NOT_TOWA_WAKASA
Summary: Touko gets sick, and Byakuya ends up caring for two.





	Sternutation

**Author's Note:**

> emetaphobia warning  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gr0XWmEbiMQ

  
It was 10:42 AM when Byakuya realized that he had made an utterly insufficient amount of progress in his day so far, both by the standards he set for himself and by the fact that he succeeded his coworkers by only the slimmest of margins. No reason could possibly excuse such substandard performance, yet against his will his mind wondered in search of an explanation. Several minutes of his attention insistently flickering between his work and the question sitting in the back of his mind like a layabout on a hammock later, Byakuya licked at his dry lips and his throat contracted unpleasantly as he swallowed. It was 10:45 AM and he has yet to take in any liquid. He’d never had this issue before, and again, his mind wondered.

There were no answers, and he was stuck in limbo between getting up and sating his thirst and stubbornly staying put and making up for lost progress. It was 10:49 - and absolutely, Byakuya was aware that keeping such a particular account of the time was a sign of idleness - when an incredibly useless-looking man strutted into his work space unannounced and unscheduled.

“Have you seen Fukawa anywhere, Togami?” asked Makoto.

Byakuya realized he had a headache, too. It was firstly a symptom of the fact he’d apparently gone without water for 12 or more hours, but the distraction felt like nails on chalkboard and could not possibly have done anything to alleviate the dull pain that was building behind his forehead. “It’s presumptuous to think that I keep track of her like some sort of keeper. Check her department.”

Deflated, Makoto looked away, and added idly, “I already have. I don’t think she’s come in today.”

Byakuya hadn’t had any coffee. The usual mug was nowhere to be seen on his desk, and looking back through his recollection of the day’s events he knew he had not disposed of it earlier. While he certainly did not have a caffeine addiction, it was entirely possible that his body had gotten used to the substance and was unadjusted to working without it.

Today was a perfect example of the dangers of using such a crux. The next time Touko offered him his morning coffee “the way he liked it” (he had no such preference) he would decline. She had better things to be doing than coffee runs.

Mystery solved. When Byakuya did not engage with Makoto further, the man eventually left and allowed him to resume his work. Even without the distraction, his efficiency did not return to its standard, but still he refused to leave his station. Two hours and six minutes later, Byakuya saved and bookmarked his work and took an appropriately placed lunch break.

At a cafe a block away from his work, Byakuya unwrapped a pre-made sandwich slice from a sheen of ceramic wrap and waited for his cup of coffee to cool. The subject of his work was fading from his mind the moment he stepped out of the office - frustrating, because Byakuya liked to use whatever breaks he did take to consider what he would pursue next. However, as he nibbled on his cold sandwich and sipped on his coffee (which tasted awful, by the way, did they prepare it correctly?), he supposed that it allowed him the opportunity to sate a minor curiosity.

“ _B͞͡yak̨̧͜͠͏u͏̧ya-s̸̡͠͝amah,_ ” Touko breathed into her phone the moment she picked up, nearly rupturing Byakuya’s eardrums.

“Shit,” Byakuya seethed, and rushed to lower the volume on his phone. “Learn to hold the phone away from your mouth.”

“ _Ah,_ ” she moaned, and on the other end Byakuya heard a sharp rustling. “ _Shorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I…_ ” she sniffed harshly, at which Byakuya cringed. “ _This is embarrassing…_ ”

There was a still air between them as Byakuya failed to pick up the conversation, which Touko was quick to fill with directionless mumblings. “Enough,” Byakuya said, and she immediately stopped. “What is your reason for skipping work?”

“ _Y-you noticed_?” Touko let out of a choked gasp, which crackled on her end. “ _Is Byakuya-sama worried about me?_ ”

“I’m noticing that you are not denying that you’ve skipped work, which is worrying for the future of your career.”

“ _W-worried? You really are?_ ” There was more rustling. “ _Ah, no! I didn’t m-mean to skip work. I woke up feeling really gross, an-and tired, and my nose was all runny, and… I didn’t think I could make it to work, so…_ ”

“You’re sick?”

“ _A-ahm sorry, Byakuya-sama!_ ” she begged. “ _I-it’s because I don’t take care of myself, m-my insides are like a g-gushy mess of toxic waste… I used to get sick a lot when I was younger, but b-because it meant I could skip school, I never tried to get better._ ”

“I didn’t ask for the story,” Byakuya cut in. “Naegi came asking for you earlier, which tells me that you did not notify the office and call in a sick day.”

Touko cleared her throat, making no effort to hide the noise it made. “ _I-is that bad?_ ”

“Obviously. You could lose your job.”

Touko whined. “ _I k-kept thinking I had to call someone, but I keep falling asleep, and each time when I wake up I forget what I was doing._ ”

"That isn’t an excuse,” Byakuya replied quickly. When Touko kept whining, he pensively added, "Did I wake you up?”

 _“No! I was awake, I… I only sleep for a few minutes at a time, l-like I’m falling in and out of it… I feel so groggy and gross,_ ” she murmured, before sniffling again.

"You should be sleeping,” he said, before realizing that he’d gotten off topic. His coffee was lukewarm and he’d only had two bites out of his sandwich. “Call work and call in sick - actually, no, I don’t trust you to follow through on that. I will tell them that you are sick, and you will ready yourself for work tomorrow by whatever means necessary.”

“ _A-ahh, he is worried…_ ” Touko breathed, her voice unusually light. “ _Is that a command, Byakuya-sama?_ ”

Byakuya rolled his eyes, somewhat disappointed she had no way of seeing the gesture. Beneath his lungs and above his stomach, a kind of… anxiety was building, something hollow and fluttering that put his nerves on edge. He had half a mind to hang up on her, but a part of him found the idea of her immune system molding itself to his command amusing enough to be worth entertaining.

After twelve seconds of silence, which Byakuya would realize thirty seconds later was far too long a pause for any sort of decisive air to be maintained, he compromised. “Get well quickly,” he said, nearly cutting himself off in how quickly he hung up.

—

It was by a long series of off-hand, flip-of-a-coin, might-as-well decisions that Byakuya found himself in front of Touko’s apartment, one hand laden with a weighted grocery bag and another wrapped into a fist held pensively in the air, wrist bent an inch away from the worn wooden surface of her door. While there was a… _degree_ of precedent for such a visit, the frivolity of it was easily justified by it being work related - from his view, at least. It was one thing for Touko to be a sniveling, mucus-dripping mess, but her missing work without warning created complications that disrupted work flow. He was simply being proactive by ensuring that she was properly sorting out her sickness - whatever that might be, Byakuya had accounted for with an array of anti-virals, anti-biotics, aspirins, a can of soup…

Fist tightening with a burst of resolve, Byakuya finally committed himself and wrapped against the door. Three even, solid, temporally equidistant knocks, as was his signature. As his fist came down the third time, it lingered, and Byakuya silently cleared his throat as he waited.

A minute passed. No sound came from within the apartment. No one came.

As realization dawned on him, Byakuya withdrew his hand and clenched his eyes shut. She was likely sleeping - of course she was, Byakuya had essentially told her to do so. He could call her (two times in one day, his stomach lurched) but that would contradict the purpose of this visit - she _should_ be sleeping. His grip on the grocery bag he’d intended for her tightened, and then loosened, and he reached his free hand to rub at the corner of his eyes, jostling his glasses slightly, which he then corrected.

He didn’t necessarily have to wake her.

Byakuya slid a hand into his pocket and withdrew his wallet, the worn leather of its cusp scraping against his fingers as he flipped through its compartments. A spare key was an incredibly presumptuous ‘gift’, Byakuya had thought, though he understood the significance of it from Touko’s perspective. Despite her tendency to overshare, she was still someone who needed a privacy to retreat to, as most people did. She must have thought it a display of trust to subordinate such a need to Byakuya’s whim.

He never thought he’d make use of it. That he remembered it at all could be attributed to his impeccable memory.

After a moment of deliberation (and over a minute of awkwardly fishing through his wallet with one hand) Byakuya decided that there was no harm in leaving his package on her counter. She would do with it what she would, and Byakuya wouldn’t have to walk back to his apartment with a paperweight.

He slid the spare key into the lock and pushed the door open. Her apartment was different than it had been last time he’d been here - just a bit tidier, fewer piles of scrap littering the floor, though it was hardly visitor worthy. It was a small place, similar to his own in room placement and likely equal in space. Byakuya made his way through quietly, stepping heel-first to avoid upsetting the floorboards. His grocery bag rustled slightly in its sway.

He looked over her kitchen. It was strange how clean it was - given Touko’s health, he would have expected her to put off cleaning after herself. Gingerly, he placed his grocery bag on the counter, between her sink and a microwave.

Stepping back to look it over, he noticed a buzzing in the back of his mind - something approaching nervousness, though _that_ Byakuya surely was not. Touko had made it clear that it was okay for him to visit, and though this wasn’t a visit necessarily, the principal was the same. It was just - maybe _irregular_ to receive a grocery bag of medicine on your counter with no prior warning.

Maybe he should leave a note.

A loud thump resounded through the apartment, and Byakuya’s heart lurched in his chest. Instantly, he turned, floor creaking underneath his feet. Where he looked there was nothing, no young woman staring at him, asking what he was doing here, asking why he hadn’t notified her before stepping into her home, and wasn’t this presumptuous of him - none of those things. Still, his heart raced, face flushed, and he waited for a sound.

A moment. Nothing happened.

Byakuya walked towards the source of the sound, past the small television and couch and towards the apartment bedroom. A faint light emanated through an open sliver between the door and frame. He could hear no sound within the room, no pained groans or frustrated mumblings or hoarse breathing. After a pause, he pushed his way through, cringing at the creaking of the door hinge.

Touko’s room was a mess. The relative cleanliness of her apartment ended at her door - huge stacks of what Byakuya assumed to be manuscripts littered the floor, piled into corners. Clothes were strewn across the room carelessly, as were occasional bowls and wrappers. Byakuya felt dirtier looking at it. At the centerpiece of it all, her bed, a mass of blankets and sheets trailed off the edge and onto the floor in a massive heap.

Byakuya drew closer. Just barely, he could make out the heap rising and falling, like a slumbering beast. Was Touko really such a heavy sleeper that she’d remain unconscious through a fall like that? The silence of it disturbed him.

One step too close, and the heap moved. Jaws bit into his legs, and the floor was suddenly pulled out from under him. His heart leapt into his throat, mind blanking in shock, and some sort of sound was ripped from his throat before being cut off by the floor exploding against his back.

There was laughter, hoarse and dripping with phlegm, loud until it sputtered into a girlish cough. “Babycakes, is that you??? Ah, with this stuffy nose, I can’t even recognize your scent! I thought you were a burglar!!!”

Byakuya’s mind reeled. He couldn’t breath, lungs impossibly empty and grasping at vacuum. The sound registered as noise, like a blearing siren in his ears.

Amused by his display, his assailant giggled, and crawled out of her heap and towards him. “Though, I guess you’re no better, sneaking into a girl’s apartment!! What were you planning to do, huh? Huh?”

“Syo,” Byakuya managed, wheezing.

“You remembered!” she gasped, and then snorted loudly. “Even though you’re a criminal, it makes me feel warm hearing you call my name! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Slowly, Byakuya recovered by inches, a stream of air easing into his lungs with strained relief. He pushed against her shoulder with diminished strength, and she gave surprisingly easily. Syo squealed as she fell to the floor, landing on her face and burying her nose in the carpet.

Byakuya pulled himself away by his elbows, grunting with the effort it took. The floorboards creaked under his shifting weight, Byakuya’s heart raced, and Syo was dead silent - something Byakuya might have contemplated had he a moment to collect himself. Slowly, the woman’s head rose, the greasy disarray of her bangs the first to peak out from the carpet. Rather than the daggers Byakuya anticipated her to stare into him, her eyes were dazed, unfocused. Her eyebrows pinched together, the tip of her nose quivered, and Byakuya stared, mesmerized.

And then she exploded, a short, girlish noise erupting from her throat with a spray of mucus and spit. Byakuya blinked.

As if waking up from a stupor, the woman across from him slowly picked herself up, eyes unfocused - in their usual slate hue, Byakuya was relieved to find. A small noise rolled behind her lips as she cleared her throat, and idly she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. As she did, her wandering eyes met with Byakuya’s.

“… That’s quite unsanitary, you know.”

Touko screamed, and shielded her face. “W-what are you doing here?! I’m n-not ready for company, I-I’m… I’m indecent!” she yelled, and tugged the blanket strewn across the floor and used it to cloak her fully-clothed body.

 _That explains the naps_ , Byakuya thought idly, though his mind reeled at the fact that he had no good answer for her question. “I… c…ame by to ensure you were indeed -”

“Y-you didn’t give me time to prepare!” Touko seethed, cutting him off. Her teeth ground together and her fingers dug into her face as she let out a frustrated whine. “Totally disheveled… I’m di-disgusting, completely unworthy of Byakuya-sama’s gaze!”

“Well,” Byakuya started, and pushed up his glasses, “Though your appearance is unsightly, I would not expect differently from you in this state, and it would be unrealistic to assume, ah, that you…”

“I-I haven’t even in showered in… two, three…?” Touko mumbled, and shook her head. “T-this has to be a dream, o-one of those where I embarrass myself in f-front of everyone a-and can’t explain myself and they laugh at me and Byakuya-sama calls me an unreasonable girl!”

"Calm down,” he finally said, raising his voice just slightly to get through to her. “Your sickly appearance is entirely excusable given that you are indeed _sick_ and are within the privacy of your home, and no one other than me is here to see it. Furthermore, I have no expectations of you to begin with, so how you present yourself before me is irrelevant.”

Touko hung on his words, mentally sifting as her gaze sluggishly trailed between his eyes and the floor. Rather than digging into her cheeks, her fingers balled into fists, and slowly she was able to still herself. Eventually, she nodded her head, letting her hands fall to her lap. “… Sorry,” she said, either out of embarrassment or at a loss of how to reply.

“An apology is unnecessary,” he replied, with less decisiveness than he intended.

In the wake of her panic, Byakuya could tell that she had exhausted herself, and she leaned against the side of the bed. “… Why are you here?”

There was a long pause as Byakuya mentally sorted out his answer, Touko’s eyes on his and his on the space just to the left of her face. Finally, “As you are unwell,” he began, “it is of course expected that you require aid in getting past your ailment is a timely manner - especially considering your admission that you do not look after your health. Because your continued absence at work is an inconvenience, I took it upon myself to see that you recover quickly.”

“I see…” she mumbled, trying to nod her head and doing more to rub her cheek into a sagging bed sheet. “So it’s a dream after all. Byakuya-sama would never go this far, and it doesn’t even make sense how he got into my room so suddenly… ah, when I wake up, I need to remember to write this down in my log!”

Byakuya wanted to smack himself in the face, partially to hide the heat building in his cheeks. Maybe it would be better if she thought this was a dream? Something about that didn’t sit right with him, but the more he considered it the more sense it made. Though, there was the issue of the grocery bag, but that could easily be passed off as an eerie coincidence.

“Hey, can you tell me if this is the sort of dream where y-you’ll do a-anything I tell you…?”

Right, no, this was definitely the time to leave. Byakuya leaned forward and pushed himself off the ground, brushing off his pant legs as he rose.

“Ah!” Touko squeaked, “Don’t go, I don’t want it to end yet!” In a rush, she pushed herself up to follow him, stumbling as she reached her full height. Byakuya watched as she wobbled, her eyes unfocused, mouth moving but her sounds quiet. _Don’t, um, wait_ , he could read on her lips. Her face slowly pinched, mouth forming a tight line, until finally her expression morphed into revulsion as she doubled over and emptied her stomach onto the carpet.

“Shit,” Byakuya hissed.

—

The peripheral education Byakuya received on biology and health during his time as an heir had been more than enough to offer a workable diagnosis of Touko’s flu. According to her account, she was displaying a long array of symptoms; fatigue, dizziness, a runny nose, dry throat… Vomiting, Byakuya did not need to be told, and most notably, sneezing.

“Sorry,” Touko said for the fourth time from her place on the bed as Byakuya cleaned out the last of her bile. “Did any get on your feet?”

“No,” Byakuya answered, though his eyes darted to the ground to check, “you didn’t.”

“Ah… if I had, I w-would have to get on my knees and lick them clean for you, wouldn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t allow your tongue anywhere near my body. Your mouth is likely just as disgusting as the inside of your stomach,” he replied, dropping a towel he borrowed from Touko into a murky bowl at his side, before adding, “not to mention how counterproductive that would be in your situation. You don’t need to be licking anything unsanitary.”

“No part of Byakuya is too…” her voice waned, halting mid-sentence as if caught. She rubbed at her throat, and rather than continue, she turned her head to bury her face into her pillow.

Byakuya picked himself up, glancing idly around her room as he rose. Though this particular spot on the floor was now clean, the horrid state of her room at large was hardly conducive to Touko’s recovery. “Your expulsion was clear. What have you eaten today?”

“Don’t remember,” she murmured, her tone petulant.

“Excuse me?”

“I… said I don’t remember. If she ate something while I was gone, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Byakuya didn’t know how to interpret that, couldn’t gauge the emotions behind the bitter tone with which Touko had spat _she_. Whether it was because Touko resented sharing a body with Syo or another reason entirely or if she was simply tired.

“Can you not tell whether or not you are hungry?” he finally asked.

“… N-no,” she mumbled, before raising her voice. “No, my stomach feels… floaty. Gross. I-I don’t know if it’s empty or not.”

Byakuya clicked his tongue. “You’re making this difficult for me.”

“A-ah, Byakuya!” Touko quickly shuffled around in bed, urgent to face him. “It’s already shameful that I’ve troubled you this much… Th-that Byakuya-sama allows me, at my lowest point, within a 10 foot radius of him makes me feel unbelievably content, ah-I don’t need anything more! If you’re sick of me, your lingering musk will be enough to rejuvenate my body!”

By the end of her spiel, Touko was gasping for air, voice as dry as sand. “You are even more grating to listen to when your throat is sore. Don’t push yourself,” he said. Touko’s fingers gripped tightly on the edge of her blanket. “And don’t mistake my ‘visit’ for altruism. I’m taking care of a potential complication, that’s all.”

“…yes, Byakuya-sama,” she said, nodding her head slightly.

“Now, can you at least tell me if the _idea_ of food is displeasing to you?”

Touko’s eyes widened, and she tugged the edge of her blanket to cover her face, though her growing grin reached the corners of her eyes. “… i-if it’s made by you…”

Byakuya wouldn’t consider the contents of a pre-prepared can of soup ‘made by him’, but he chose not to argue. He left to heat up the soup he’d brought for her, returning briefly as the stove heated to bring Touko a glass of water, which she prompt let spill down her chin trying to drink it while laying down. Making use of her kitchen was easy enough, as they had the same stove, though rummaging through her unorganized drawers for a can opener took longer than expected.

Minutes later, holding a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and a cautious swathe of napkins in the other, Byakuya returned, though he wasn’t the only one who had.

His greeting wasn’t nearly as energetic as the last one. Byakuya found Syo lying still on the bed, pinching her lolling tongue between her finger and thumb, seemingly wringing it of saliva. Upon seeing him, she mumbled something unintelligible, and lethargically wiped her hand on her blanket.

“Geeze, you’re still here? I bet you were expecting some cute, defenseless girl, huh?” Syo laughed coarsely, hands tugging tight the edge of her blanket. “Sorry to disappoint, I’m only one of those things~”

“I’ve never doubted you being female,” Byakuya replied. He swallowed, and stepped closer, setting his items down on the night table, temporarily out of her reach.

Syo giggled. “You won’t even let up on someone’s who’s sick, eh? That’s the Byakuya I know, always ruthless.” She turned in her bed until she was lying flat on her stomach, twisting her neck to the side to keep Byakuya in her line of sight. “So, you steal her panties yet? Or are you going for the coupons she cuts out and never uses?”

Even in her current state, lying in bed and mumbling with a croaky voice, her stare managed to put him on edge. His immediate response was to look away, which was precisely why he met her glare. “I won’t dignify that insinuation with a response -”

“-but you heard it, so I feel pretty dignified~”

“-… but I admit that I hadn’t considered that this situation would be confusing for you.”

Syo blinked. Her tongue, tucked beneath her chin against the bed, flicked idly at her jaw. Then - more in reaction to his stern expression than his words - she grinned, and reeled in her tongue. Byakuya expected her to speak, and when she didn’t, he came to the unsettling realization that he had no way of telling what was going through her mind.

He didn’t let it reach his face. “… here,” he said, lifting the bowl of soup off the nightstand. “I’ll recount the day’s events while you eat. I don’t know how long it’s been since - _either_ of you have eaten, so it’s important that this is sorted first.”

Slowly, as if stuck in tar, Syo’s face contorted as she processed his words. "A meal and a story? Oh, Byakuya, you make me feel like a princess!” She chortled, and shifted in bed until she was lying on her back. “Can’t say I’m in the mood for alphabet soup, though. Did I ever tell you I’m a picky eater? Food is like men, you gotta save yourself for the right one and dispose of the rest!”

If it had been possible for Byakuya to forget just who he had been speaking with, that would have been the point that he remembered. His grip stiffened. “… It’s not alphabet soup,” he responded immediately, “and that attitude is completely unacceptable. I took the time to prepare it, so you have to eat it.”

Syo’s grin widened, quiet laughs rumbling behind a wall of sharp teeth. “Oh, is _daddy_ going to starve me if I don’t eat my peas?” Byakuya cringed. “If you want me to eat your _achingly_ prepared can of mush, you gotta sweeten the deal!”

“No. I’m already going out of my way without you making it an ordeal. I’m not going to bargain with you.”

“Oh, come on! How about I eat your disgusting cow shit pig slop, and you give me a big, fat kiss?” Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips, and Byakuya might have thought she was trying to taunt him if her cheeks didn’t flush an even deeper shade of red. “A-and it’s gotta be on the lips!! No _cheeky_ business, okay??”

“Absolutely not. I’d catch your illness.”

Syo’s eyes gleamed, and she barked with laughter for all of two seconds before breaking down into harsh, pained coughing. “S-so… so…” she sputtered as she struggled to catch her breath. Byakuya took a step closer, putting down the bowl of soup in favor of the glass of water. Syo’s expression quivered between absolute jubilee and painful winces.

“Syo -”

Syo sucked in a deep breath. “ _S-so you’d kiss me if I wasn’t sick_??” She squealed, still gasping for air. “Byakuya, _oh_!”

“What,” Byakuya said, caught between his moment of concern and processing her garbled words. Then, “… That is _not_ what I meant,” he ground out.

“Are you _blushing_ , Byakuya?? Could it have been the seed I’ve planted in your skull?”

Byakuya clenched his teeth. As Syo seemed to stabilize, he put down the glass of water, though mindful keeping it within her reach. “No. Your statement betrayed my expectations, so I was caught off guard. I know now to take you less seriously.”

The sound of air whistling through her throat was hoarse, like loose plates of metal being jostled by harsh wind, but it was capped by a blissful sigh. Turning onto her side, her eyes moved from Byakuya’s face to the bowl of soup. “Maaaybe, if I can see Byakuya taste-testing it, I’ll take a few sips,” she offered.

“Do you think I poisoned it?” Byakuya said incredulously, though he wondered whether or not he’d have a similar reaction. “Because that’s absurd. Your alter has already taken in water that I’ve prepared, so you are beyond that precaution.”

Syo’s eyebrows pinched together. Wiping her nose with her wrist, “What? No, no, I don’t care about something petty like getting poisoned! But if the food isn’t good enough for Mr. Caviar, then it’s not good enough for me!”

“… This is ridiculous,” Byakuya said, though he moved to pick up the bowl of soup. “If it’ll make you cooperate, fine.” He sat down next to her on the bed - Syo wriggled at the proximity - and took a single spoonful of the brothy soup into his mouth, careful to keep his face clear in case it really did taste bad.

Syo looked particularly excited watching him take the spoon into his mouth, and with only a suspecting glance from Byakuya she eagerly took bowl when Byakuya passed it to her. Looking him straight in the eye, she dipped the spoon into the bowl, gathering a soggy piece of potato, and stuffed it past her lips with none of her prior hesitance.

For a moment, all seemed normal, and Byakuya wondered why Syo hadn’t insisted that he feed it to her - until he noticed the tip of her tongue peaking past her lips, slowly slithering out until it was wrapping around the length of the spoon like a boa constrictor around it’s prey. Her eyes beamed at him, the corners of her lips were pulled into a mischievous smile.

“Indiregt kith,” she mumbled through the spoon between her teeth.

A year earlier, that definitely would have been the point that Byakuya left. Instead, he rolled his eyes, doing his best not to humor her. After the first spoonful Syo was much less enthusiastic about eating, but as Byakuya fulfilled his promise of filling in the gaps in her memory, she did take occasional sips, each time swallowing harshly. Purposefully leaving out the sections which implicated him, Byakuya went through the day’s events, and not knowing how long it had been since Syo had last been out, he included the hour and date.

Syo’s eyes drooped, and eventually, setting the spoon down, she reclined back onto the bed. Byakuya picked the half-empty bowl off her lap, noting by its temperature that he’d have to reheat it if either of them wanted to finish it. “God, this has been way more lame than I imagined,” she murmured.

Byakuya didn’t ask her to continue.

“Like, I get to be around more than I have in weeks, but I’m too sick to do anything,” she continued anyway, the tone of her voice carrying her annoyance more than her volume. “Byakuya’s here, even. It’s a total tease.”

“You did quite a lot more than necessary earlier,” Byakuya offered.

“Eh?” Syo looked to Byakuya. She sniffed, and then sniffed again harder. “Oh, right. Tripping you up was pretty good,” she sighed. “I actually feel better about it now.” She kept sniffing.

“Do you need a tissue?”

“Ah…”

“I don’t know what that means. Here,” Byakuya said, and tugged out a tissue from a box on the nightstand.

Syo sneezed. Byakuya mentally jumped at the high sound, and when he turned towards the source, he was relieved to find that the woman on the bed was too dazed to have noticed his reaction.

“… Welcome back,” he said.

Touko sniffed.

“Stop sniffling, you’re making it worse for yourself.” Touko blinked at him. “Here,” Byakuya said, and held the tissue already in his hand against Touko’s nose, “blow.”

Touko was caught off guard by the gesture - perhaps even more by the proximity of Byakuya’s hands to her face - but she eventually followed suit. Byakuya wished he’d brought gloves, and as he tossed the item into a makeshift waste bin he reminded himself to wash his hands at the first opportunity.

Touko leaned back onto the bed with a sour expression. “I’m tired…”

“Syo was very… energetic,” Byakuya said.

Touko’s eyes drifted to his, lazy until suddenly splitting wide. “W-what’s that supposed to mean!?”

“I…” Byakuya’s brows knitted together. “What?”

Touko shrunk back. “… What.”

Byakuya was mindful not to touch his glasses, and instead averted his gaze. “… If you’re tired, then sleep,” he said.

Touko’s lips tightened into an embarrassed line, and she rolled onto her side. “I-if… if I sleep, o-or if she’s here, then… I’ll waste my opportunity,” she said, mumbling into the bed as if to hide her words from the man beside her.

Byakuya glanced at the alarm clock sitting on Touko’s nightstand. It was getting late, but keeping in mind that his own room was only three floors down, he figured that he had time to wash her bed sheets and disinfect nearby surfaces. She could do with a shower as well, but knowing what her reaction to the suggestion would be beforehand made him mentally groan. “I can’t understand you when you mumble. Either speak up or conserve your energy.”

There was a pause, one long enough for Byakuya to imagine that she’d chosen the latter and drifted off. Instead, it was broken by a shuddering exhale. “If,” Touko began, before swallowing audibly, “I’m not better by tomorrow, will you v-visit again? To help me get better.”

Byakuya looked her way. “That would be less than ideal, but the day after tomorrow is one you have off, correct? I’m sure you’ll recover over the weekend.”

Touko wasn’t deterred. “… W-what if I didn’t? W… what if I’m really, r-really sick, and I’m not better by then?”

“Then,” Byakuya started, seemingly annoyed with this line of conversation, “that would be a sign that your condition is serious, and I would suggest that you take yourself to the hospital… I hope you’re not implying that I’ve done a poor job caring for your health. I’ll simply leave if you’re dissatisfied.”

Touko squeaked. “No, no!” she repeated through clenched teeth, her face morphing into one of abject suffering. “Don’t listen to the g-garbage that flies out of my mouth! I’d n-never ask Byakuya-sama to leave…”

It was a sentiment Touko had expressed before, in a thousand different ways and in every context imaginable. It wasn’t so much a mantra as it was a formal address; _hello, goodbye, don’t leave me_. The distress she showed when repeating it concerned him, of course, only because it reflected poorly on her health and, by extension, as a self-elected caretaker, on him. “… Hm,” was all he said, however.

In order to have the bedsheets cleaned, Touko had to be moved to the couch - an instruction she readily followed. “It will take some time, so you ought to take the opportunity to bathe and change into fresh clothes,” he added before leaving, which she did well not to stammer at.

An old man down by the coin wash told Byakuya that it was a ‘bit late’ to be taking care of bedsheets, sporting an affable grin as he spoke. Byakuya replied that the machines worked at any time of day, so long as there was power and they still took coins - the man tried to clarify his statement, but Byakuya insisted. A silence fell over them, one the old man must have considered awkward but Byakuya was far too busy to mind.

Washing another person’s bedsheets unprompted was a strange way to spend one’s night. Though, unprompted was the only way Byakuya would find himself willing, as anyone asking Byakuya to carry out such a simple errand would receive only a glare in reply. If Byakuya showed such a willingness to Touko, he imagined she’d simply abuse it to shirk even more of her basic responsibilities.

He wondered what he would be doing with his night if he wasn’t here, washing another person’s bedsheets. Reading, he figured - or more likely re-reading, as Byakuya opted more often as time went to fall back on old favorites. It eliminated the risk the wasting his time with something sub-standard, something he found himself doing more and more as he no longer had access to his old libraries. Though it was far less stimulating than reading something new, there was something comforting about the familiarity of detective novels that have long been sorted away.

It wasn’t much of an evening, admittedly. But he wasn’t reading - he was doing someone else’s laundry. Using his own free time. Voluntarily. Something boiled within his chest - something like shame, something like revulsion, something like spite. Of course, he was doing this for his benefit, not hers. When the dryer finally finished with a long, single-tone beep, he decided he’d ask her to reimburse him for the 400 yen he just spent.

It would have to be some other time. Curled into the crevice between cushions was Touko’s sleeping form, arms and legs tucked inward. She breathed through her mouth, the sound raspy and dry, and Byakuya cringed knowing she’d wake up with a sore throat. By the greasy sheen of her hair he knew she certainly hadn’t bathed, but she was wearing a different set of mismatched pajamas.

His lips pulled into a frown. The couch was a poor place for her to sleep, likely dusty and less frequently disinfected. After placing back the freshly cleaned bedsheets, he returned to the couch and stared at her back, rising and falling in time with her breath, as he considered his plan of action.

He bent down and slowly, very slowly, dug his hands under her back and the crook of her knee. He did not deliberate because he was unsure of how to hold another human being - that skill was intuitive and Byakuya had no reason to think it would come as anything less than naturally to him. He deliberated because he did not want to wake her - and he wanted not to wake her not because it would bother him on its own, but because he was sure her reaction to being held would be loud enough to give him a headache, which would delay his own sleep significantly.

She was lighter than Byakuya expected.

Her head lolled back awkwardly, neck bending at an angle that looked extremely uncomfortable. Her breath hitched. Not panicking, Byakuya adjusted her so that her head was supported by his shoulder, putting her face close enough to his chest that he could feel her soft, warm breath roll against the base of his neck. It smelled absolutely rancid, sending a bone-quivering shiver of revulsion down his spine that instantly had him wanting to drop her and tell her to walk back on her own two feet.

As if in tune with his thoughts, she moved. His entire body froze, excluding only his heart which pounded in his chest. It was only slight - she curled into him, arms folding into the space between them, face burying into his shoulder. Though the sound was like a hurricane in his ear, he couldn’t make out the words she mumbled into his shirt.

No longer deliberating, he carried her to her bed, loosely threw her blanket over her form, picked up the garbage bag he brought into the room and tied it closed on his way out and tossed it into her garbage bin before leaving her apartment and locking it closed, all within a single heart-racing minute. His face burned, and despite not waking her, a considerable amount of time passed before he finally fell asleep.

—

 _By any means necessary_ , Byakuya had said. Makoto appreciated the extra mile Touko went in coming to work the next day, eyes still puffy red and mouth shielded by a surgical mask. The work they did was important, after all, and these little efforts each member made to keep things running counted. Still, Syo didn’t seem to share much of her counterpart’s work ethic.

 

 


End file.
